


It's Not About Winning

by st4rlabsforever (omaken)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omaken/pseuds/st4rlabsforever
Summary: Cisco wriggles his wrists in his restraints. In the grand scheme of things – or at least as far as kidnappings go – this one isn’t so bad. Sure, the ropes might be chafing his wrists and the blindfold might be messing with his balance, but his discomfort is at a solid three out of ten right now..Just a day in the life of Central City's premier superhero couple.





	It's Not About Winning

1.

“Two hundred cream puffs in two hundred seconds,” Cisco says. “There’s no way.”

“Ugh,” Barry groans from his spot on the cool tile of the Cortex. “I’m nauseous just thinking about that.”

“Psh. Getting slow in your old age.”

“I’m barely thirty!” Barry says, clearly affronted.

Cisco only grins a serene little grin, shrugging dismissively in that way he knows will get Barry riled up.

“Nuh uh. I know what you’re trying to do and I’m not suffering just to indulge your morbid curiosity.”

Cisco sighs. “It’s too bad. If you’d have won, I’d have made you a special helping of pernil. All yours, fresh out the oven.” He waits for Barry to process the words in three, two, one.

“Wait.” Bingo. Cisco blinks and Barry’s suddenly sitting up ramrod straight, eyes wide as saucers, body practically bristling with energy. “With the arroz con gandules?”

“Course.” His pernil is sacred – a once a year at Christmas deal no matter how much Barry flashes his puppy dog eyes – but Cisco can make an exception just this once.

“You’re on,” Barry says. Hook, line, and sinker. They shake on it, and Cisco can literally see the lightning dancing across Barry’s eyes. Mostly, Cisco’s just bored and curious to test the limits of Barry’s powers, as he’s been since the moment Barry awoke from his coma, but it’s a matter of life or death for Barry. One day he’s going to bring Barry around his abuela’s – she’d be absolutely poleaxed to see his enthusiasm for her recipe.

“You haven’t asked what I want if I win,” Cisco says breezily.

“Because you’re not gonna win this one,” Barry smirks. “But okay, I’ll humor you. What are your terms?”

“I win and you stop stealing my food for a month.”

“I don’t –” his lips slowly tick up again, “–okay, I do. Sometimes. But! I replace it when I do. So.” Cisco raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I replace it when I remember to.” Silence. “Which is not most of the time.”

“See? We’ll make an honest man out of you yet,” Cisco says.

Barry just beams. “Not when I’m eating all of your pernil.”

“Not likely, buddy.”

*

“So, how’re we gonna do this?” Barry asks, lingering over the stove and inhaling deeply. And Cisco can’t be sure from a distance, but he’s pretty sure that’s drool on the corner of Barry’s lips.

“For starters, back away from the pernil. You haven’t won.”

“Yet,” Barry says. He drifts over to the kitchen table where Cisco’s already done him the courtesy of laying out two one-hundred count boxes. “See, if my math is right, this is only eight thousand calories. That’s, like, one hard workout for me.”

There’s a sudden blast of wind, Cisco’s front door slams shut, and before he can really comprehend what’s happening, Barry’s back, panting heavily as he towels off his hair. “Sorry, but you’re going down, babe.”

Cisco only smiles magnanimously, mostly because he knows Barry’s not going to win this, but also possibly maybe because Barry looks too good with his STAR Labs t-shirt clinging tightly to his sweat-soaked body. If Cisco lets his instincts run this show, there’s definitely not going to be any bet at all.

“Two hundred cream puffs in two hundred seconds. On my mark.” He glances down at his watch as Barry makes a dramatic show of cracking his back. “Oh yeah, and just to make sure you don’t try anything funny, peep this.”

“It’s...your phone?” Barry asks. “What exactly am I looking at?”

“I created a high-speed camera app. This way you can watch yourself lose this bet in slow-mo whenever you want.”

Barry snorts. “Not gonna happen. This app though?” He zips around Cisco’s apartment in a frenzy of motion, and Cisco feels that weird sensation he gets whenever Barry touches him at super speed. When the wind and lightning die down, Cisco’s phone is back in his hand, replaying a (very unflattering, fuck you very much Barry) slow-mo of himself blinking and gawping and gawking at Barry. Barry even leans in to peck him on the cheek at the end, which at least makes it a little better.

“Okay, I totally set myself up for that one.”

Barry grins. “Seriously though, you could make a killing if you sold this app.”

“Help me market it later?”

“Duh. After I eat your pernil.” He beams like a puppy and Cisco finds himself doing the same, and – wait, he’s definitely not supposed to be rooting for Barry to win this thing.

“Whatever. On my mark. And, go.”

Half of the first box disappears in almost an instant, but the next five seconds are occupied by Barry frowning at the pastries in front of him.

“Problem?” Cisco simpers.

“Not on your life.”

The second half goes more slowly – a respectable thirty seconds. Still, Barry’s halfway to the goal with over a hundred seconds remaining. Cisco is averse to say he might actually do it.

“Urgh.” Barry shakes his head and dives right into the second box, sluggishly this time as Cisco belatedly realizes he can pick out all of Barry’s movements. He takes five seconds for the first five, another five seconds for the next couple, then not even a whole cream puff in the next five.

Scratch that.

Cisco turns a chair around and parks himself at the kitchen table, chin on his hands, faux sympathy on his shoulder.

“There’s never any harm in quitting,” he sing-songs.

“Never.” There’s a faint crackle of lightning across Barry’s eyes again, and okay. That might be the last thing plenty of one-time villains saw just after monologuing their grand plans to the Flash, but Cisco is most definitely not a villain. He’s just a guy taking entirely too much pleasure in watching his boyfriend lose this bet.

Slowly but surely, ten becomes twenty becomes thirty becomes forty, and with eight seconds left to spare, Barry slams a fist on the table, belching loudly and clutching his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Cisco whispers. It's honestly pretty impressive. He slides the two trays over to Barry.

“Ugh, just leave it there.” Barry thumps his head on the table, still rubbing his belly. “I'll get to it eventually.”

Cisco smirks, maybe a little too evilly but this was just too easy. “If you recall my exact words, I said you could have it ‘fresh out the oven.’ If you don't eat it now, I'll have to share it with Iris and Wally, and you know how much they love my pernil.”

And Barry’s jaw drops right on cue. “You wouldn't.”

Cisco slides the trays back towards himself. “Try me.”

“Nuh-uh,” Barry says quickly, sliding them back. “They didn't win this.”

“Alrighty, I'll just sit right here and make sure you enjoy these like a champ.” If his voice shifts into sing-song, well, he really can't help it.

Barry frowns, looking at the pernil then side-eyeing the exit to their apartment.

“Try it and I'm never making pernil for Christmas again.”

“Unbelievable.” Barry pulls the first tray over and loosens his belt buckle. He takes slow, measured, spiteful bites – which, Cisco didn't even know was a possible thing to do before today – and maintains his frown at Cisco the entire time.

It takes the rest of the evening for Barry to finish. He draws it out as long as possible, partly to allow his speedster metabolism to kick it into high gear, Cisco assumes, and also partly because he's just consumed about 20,000 calories in one sitting.

“I win,” Barry says hoarsely, promptly resting his head on the table.

“It's a Pyrrhic victory, buddy.” Cisco rubs Barry’s head and grins at the answering groan. Winning was definitely overrated.

***

2.

“That’s impossible.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.”

“But.  _Everyone’s_  ticklish,” Barry says petulantly, trailing after Cisco as he puts the finishing touches on the suit repairs.

“Not this guy. You seriously don’t know what it was like growing up with Dante. It was either adapt or be tickled to death, so.” Cisco gestures to himself. “All under control now.”

Barry raises an eyebrow and of course –  _of course_  – experimentally pokes a finger under Cisco’s arm. And  _nope_. Cisco’s breath might hitch momentarily, but he culls together enough willpower to suppress the urge to laugh.

“Hmm…”

“See? Told you.”

“Five minutes,” Barry says confidently.

“Huh?”

“Bet I can get you to laugh in five minutes or less.”

Cisco snorts. “I just told you I’m not ticklish.”

And Barry shrugs, a wry smirk on his lips like he gives when an errant bank robber actually thinks he can take down the Flash. “That remains to be seen.”

“Fine,” Cisco throws up his arms in exasperation. “What’re we betting this time?”

“Your pride?”

Cisco rolls his eyes. “White boy’s got jokes. I see you.”

“I’ll think of something after,” Barry says, giving Cisco a peck across the lips.

“That confident?”

“I’m just sayin’, Iris might’ve won the fist fights when we were kids, but I won all the tickle fights. You sure you don’t wanna reconsider?”

“I seriously don’t know why I’m dating you.”

“Mostly for this body?” Barry says, flashing into the repaired suit and flexing both arms.

“Way too twiggy and bony.”

Barry grins. “Must be my winning personality, then.”

“Bzzt. Strike two.”

There’s an explosive blast of wind and lightning followed by the smell of burning rubber, then the real answer is staring Cisco in the face. Twizzlers, a slurpee, take out from that Korean-Mexican fusion place he and Barry have unanimously decided is “their” restaurant.

“...and he finally gets it. Give the man a medal.”

“That’s hurtful,” Barry says, crumpling up an empty package of Twizzlers. “You just want me for my powers.”

“Accurate.”

Barry cracks his neck and lets his arms swing to and fro, cracks his knuckles, wiggles his gloved fingers like that’s supposed to actually be intimidating. And okay, maybe Cisco was lying a little when he said he wasn’t in this for Barry’s body, but the reverse is also true and they both know that.

Cisco has to roll his eyes again. “You’re seriously gonna wear that?”

“Hey, we can add tickling to my list of powers after this,” Barry says with a grin. He pulls the cowl off and shakes the sweat from his hair. “Seriously. I can’t believe you think you’re gonna win.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Barry shrugs. “Your grave.”

  
He moseys behind Cisco and slips his hands beneath Cisco’s arms, probing gently as his fingers slowly wiggle around. Cisco’s ready this time though – deep breaths, ignoring the sensations, distracting himself by focusing on the atomic pulses he can feel all around him.

Just as Cisco breathes in, Barry’s fingers let off a sudden vibration as they scribble against his skin. The resulting squeal is absolutely involuntary.

“No.” Cisco shakes his head immediately. “I'm not.”

Wordless, Barry just looks like Christmas has come early. He stops and starts with the vibrations as he squeezes and pokes and prods at Cisco’s sides, stomach, neck, all without any sort of discernible pattern that Cisco can prepare for.

“I’m –  _ah!_ Oh my god! – I'm really not,” he manages to get out, but he's not sure who he's trying to convince at this point. Cisco writhes and wriggles, awkwardly dancing around the room to try and escape the offending fingers before giving up entirely and making a break for the apartment exit.

Of course, Barry ropes an arm around his torso and reels him back in.

“Nice try. It's only been thirty seconds, dude.”

“Okay, you win!” Cisco barely manages to get the words out through the laughter. The vibrations are constant now, and Barry’s hands are moving entirely too quickly for there not to be super speed involvement. “I give up! You win!”

“That's not how this works,” Barry trills. “We've still got over four minutes left, and this is payback.”

“Oh my god.” Cisco tries in vain to grab at the assaulting hands, but he's always left with air before they reappear elsewhere, rubbing at his stomach, squeezing his hips, and Barry really does know what he's doing too, because he hones in with laser focus when Cisco honest-to-god shrieks at the first touch of his feet.

Cisco’s beyond words now, shaking his head and letting the tears of laughter stream freely.

“So,” Barry says smugly, and Cisco doesn't need to see his face to visualize the smarmy expression he knows is there, “it looks like you've really got this under control. Totally adapted.”

When Cisco reaches around to smack Barry – because his pride may be on the line here, but he isn't going down without a fight – Barry seizes on the opening and speeds a hand under Cisco’s arms, effectively cutting off his retort. The laughter is non-stop at this point, really.

Of course, the experience is made much more infuriating by the fact that Barry is most definitely a sore winner. The teasing and commentary don't let up for the whole five minutes.

Once Barry’s watch signals the end – and it really does feel like an eternity; an eternity in which Cisco has most definitely planned out multiple revenge plots and then some – Cisco rolls over and curls in on himself, not that he's under the illusion it offers any protection from renegade speedsters.

“Hmm,” Barry says from somewhere above him a few minutes later, “you lost the bet.”

Cisco kicks him.

***

3.

“Bet I can suck you off in under a minute.”

Cisco snort-chokes his slurpee out his nose. Only Barry could make that sound both lewd and dorky at the same time. Once he clears his throat, Barry’s still staring at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Before you say no, hear me out,” Barry says quickly.

“‘kay.”

“Super speed blowjobs. You could be the first person in the world to get one.”

Cisco raises an eyebrow. “You realize it's not a good thing to come early, right?”

“I know, but,” Barry says, like that's somehow a complete thought.

“But?”

“It could be fun!”

“I'll probably get friction burns.”

“Nope.” A flash, and then Barry’s wiggling a bottle in his face. “That's what the lube is for.”

Cisco sighs. He can't deny he's at least a little bit curious.

“Fine,” he says.

And Barry doesn't respond, just continues to give him that expectant look.

“What, right  _now_?”

“Why not? It'll only take a minute, right?”

“We’re in the Cortex, dude.”

The telltale whoosh hits Cisco in the face before he can really process it.

“Not anymore.”

“You’re seriously the worst,” Cisco says, taking in the sterile tile of the S.T.A.R. Labs bathroom. “And everyone thinks it’s me who’s the bad influence.”

Another whoosh, and Cisco’s pants are nowhere to be found.

“Ready?”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Barry says, and blitzes into motion, a light breeze blowing between Cisco’s legs as he struggles to keep track of Barry’s blurred form.

“How’s that feel?” Barry asks. His cheeks are flushed and windswept and red, and he looks so unbelievably good kneeling between Cisco’s legs like that. And wow – Cisco stares down at his own dick, which is most definitely erect even if it hasn’t hit him yet.

“I don’t really feel –  _ah!_ ”

Cisco shudders bodily as his legs drop out from beneath him, face only avoiding a kiss with tile when Barry speeds in to catch him. It’s like someone’s taken the dial and turned it up to an eleven. Where his body would usually gradually adapt to one of Barry’s normal blowjobs, it feels like there’s a void of sensation and every synapse that nerve in his body is trying to fill as quickly as possible.

He sucks in a breath. The warmth spreads up his belly and chest and nearly threatens to overwhelm him before settling into the background almost as quickly as it comes.

“That was weird,” Cisco says slowly.

“Good ‘weird’ or bad ‘weird’?” Barry rubs patient circles into his back as Cisco slowly regains his footing.

“...definitely not bad.”

“Awesome. So...I’ll keep going?”

Cisco snorts. “Might as well. You’ve only got thirty seconds left.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Barry says with a chuckle. “Don’t forget I got you hard in two seconds. The other twenty-eight were you not being able to handle it.”

Cisco rolls his eyes. “Just blow me already.”

“With pleasure.”

When Barry starts up again, the soft undercurrent of arousal is still there. Within seconds, though, his body is seizing again and he’s on his back, writhing like he’s on the edge of orgasm except no one’s touching him – he’s not even touching himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Barry looming over him and stroking him languidly, his fingers pulsing and vibrating because when has Barry ever been a good judge of how much is too much?

“Jesus.” He huffs as Barry coaxes him to orgasm with slow, vibrating strokes.

“Nope, just me. Barry Allen.”

The two of them are normally talkative, even during sex, but it says a lot about Cisco’s current state that he hasn’t even got a retort on his tongue.

“I think I’m gonna–” Cisco pants.

“Can I…?” Barry makes some vague gesture towards Cisco’s cock that means absolutely nothing to Cisco right now.

“G-go ahead.”

And then Cisco is too busy coming to take much stock of his surroundings. It’s a different sort of high – one that nevertheless leaves him panting and breathless. It feels like...well, it feels exactly like one would expect compacting an orgasm into a span of five seconds to feel like. Of course, the one glaring drawback is that Cisco can’t experience time the way Barry does and is left reeling from the sudden rollback of pleasure.

“See? Told you I could do it,” Barry says happily. “Even got you cleaned up with three seconds to spare.” It’s only then that Cisco notices Barry licking his own fingers. His fingers with Cisco’s come on them.

“Holy shit,” Cisco breathes. “Has anyone told you you’re a very attentive boyfriend?”

“This is all true,” Barry says with a grin. He hoists Cisco up from the floor bridal style. “We are awesome at sex.”

“We actually invented it,” Cisco agrees.

“So, was that amazing or was that amazing?”

“...Ah.” Cisco mulls over how to break the news diplomatically. “It, uh – it definitely wasn’t bad? Like, A+ blowjobbing dude. It was a privilege to experience that. It’s just...maybe the regular sex is better for us non-speedster metas?”

“Oh.” Barry drops him down gently on the couch, and his crestfallen expression is there on his sleeve for all of Central City to see. “I thought for sure that was gonna be great.”

“It wasn’t  _not_  great,” Cisco says. “You just happen to be so phenomenal at regular speed sex, the speedster stuff never stood a chance.”

“Yeah?”

“Take it from this very satisfied customer.”

“Hmm.” Barry pulls the recliner and tucks himself in alongside Cisco’s back, their bodies contouring perfectly together. “And has anyone told you you’re an excellent sweet talker?”

“You could stand to mention it more often.”

***

4.

Cisco’s already in a bad mood, but the ‘free speech’ rally that’s causing all sorts of trouble downtown is only making it worse.

“Dammit,” he mutters to himself as the clutch slips off his boots.

“Everything okay?” Barry asks from the entrance of the Cortex. He dangles a bag of Big Belly Burger. “I brought lunch.”

“Sorry, dude. I’ll eat it later. Duty calls.” He zips up his vest more angrily than is strictly necessary, but Nazis are enough to ruin anyone’s day, so he figures he’s at least got an excuse.

Barry approaches slowly, depositing the takeout on the central console before moving to Cisco’s side. “Anything I can help with?”

“There’s an alt-right gathering on Wade right at the entrance to Central City Park.” He fastens his goggles and tightens his gauntlets. “I should be able to handle it.”

It’s still a bit of a sore point for Cisco – something the two of them have actually come to verbal blows over, a rarity in their relationship. There’s nothing like some good old-fashioned white supremacy to remind Cisco he chose to date a bleeding-heart white liberal. And okay, Barry’s at least a little ahead of the game. He’s got no problem with the sometimes necessary violence needed to disperse these gatherings, it’s just...the increasingly alarming displays of Nazism and white supremacy aren’t as big a priority to Barry. At least, they don’t  _seem_  to be.

“Cisco, wait.” Barry stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder before he can jump through the breach, and Cisco sighs.

“Look, man. This is kinda urgent, so unless someone’s about to die I really don’t have time.”

“I just...I feel like you’re being a little reckless?”

Cisco snorts. “That’s ironic coming from you.”

"I know, but when we're out there fighting metas, it's different, isn't it? They're trying to kill us because we're stopping them from breaking the law. But knowing you're facing people alone who want you dead because of the color of your skin...it scares me." Barry says quietly, eyes downcast. "All it takes is one bullet, Cisco."

By all means, this should be a vulnerable moment between the two of them, but all it does is make Cisco angrier.

“So, what? You’re saying I should stay at home? Let them spew their hate unchecked?”

“No, but–!”

“We put ourselves in danger everyday. Not knowing if we’re going to make it back in one piece is part of the job description.”

“I know, but–”

“You’re supposed to be a superhero, dude. You wanna help keep this city safe? Start with the people who’re threatening the existence of half the city’s population.”

The words should feel liberating, but all it does is exhaust Cisco – a bone-deep exhaustion that leaves him feeling empty and drained inside.

“I’m not saying – I mean…” Barry sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m still learning, okay? And I know I screw up sometimes and I just – you and Wally and Iris do all this stuff with such conviction, I’m just trying to follow your example without stepping on anyone’s toes. I’m always by your side when you ask, aren’t I?”

Cisco sighs again. “You are, and it’s appreciated. But it’s exhausting–”

“–to have white folks looking to you to lead all the time?”

Cisco blinks. “How did you…?”

“I talked to Wally,” Barry says, as if that explains everything, which – maybe it sort of does if Cisco’s being honest with himself.

“At some point, if you’re white and want to call yourself an ally, that means stepping up without being asked to.”

“I know that now, and I promise I’ll do better.”

Cisco gives him a soft smile, which Barry returns. “So, are you gonna –?”

“Kinda waiting for you to notice, dude. I’m already in my suit, ‘course I’m coming.”

“Okay, good.” Cisco pulls him into a one-armed hug that he reciprocates just as fiercely. “Happy to have you on board.”

“Bullets and knives are too slow for me,” Barry says, hands on his hips and a cocky grin on his face. “I’m basically a human shield.”

Cisco freezes. “Let’s maybe not joke about that. With our luck…”

“Right! Right. So how should we do this?”

“Portal’s probably the fastest. You thinking what I’m thinking?” Cisco says, lifting his goggles to make eye contact.

Barry perks up. “A bet?”

“Whoever punches the most Nazis gets lunch from the loser.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Barry says, and blitzes them both through the breach.

And to no one’s surprise, Barry comes out victorious again but buys them both lunch anyway. Cisco figures he can take the L on this one.

***

5.

Cisco wriggles his wrists in his restraints. In the grand scheme of things – or at least as far as kidnappings go – this one isn’t so bad. Sure, the ropes might be chafing his wrists and the blindfold might be messing with his balance, but his discomfort is at a solid three out of ten right now.

Mostly, he’s just a little irritated that his calculations on his new gauntlets were interrupted when he was snatched. The train of thought is gone now, and he’ll have to start from scratch again.

There’s a loud bang from somewhere behind him followed by a gentle gust of wind across his face. The familiar crackle of electricity fills the the air, adhering to Cisco’s skin, pulling the hairs on his arm upright and giving him goosebumps.

“Sorry I’m late,” a deep, quivering voice says.

Cisco can feel his wrists vibrate followed by a snap, and then they’re free. “Did I miss dinner?” he asks.

“Noooo,” the voice says, rising at least an octave and dropping all pretense of intimidation. “Come on, you haven’t been blindfolded in ages. Say the thing please?”

Cisco sighs, his body sagging against the ropes binding his arms to his torso. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who loves you very much,” the voice says. A sharp blast of wind hits him and he can suddenly see again, Barry grinning like a puppy through the Flash cowl being the first thing he sees.

“Cute.” Cisco phases his body through the rest of the ropes and rolls his shoulders with a grunt.

“Aww, come on, dude,” Barry whines. “It’s no fun if you don’t play along.” The puppy dog eyes and the cute little way his lip sticks out when he pouts are a lethal combination that have Cisco sighing again.

“Fine, do your thing.”

Barry beams, and a moment later Cisco finds himself tied to the chair again. He pitches his voice like a damsel in distress, “I’m so glad you’re here to save me, Flash.”

“It’s an honor,” Barry says, voice back down low and vibrating. “Sir.”

Cisco nearly snorts. A moment later and the ropes are severed from his body by way of vibrating hand. “My hero,” he breathes, wiping his forehead dramatically and letting his body collapse.

Barry promptly catches him with outstretched arms hooked underneath his armpits, and wow. The particle accelerator had left Barry with a modest share of muscles he was physically incapable of losing, but Barry’s body is warm and solid beneath him and  _much_  more wiry than he remembers it.

“Let’s sit you down before you pass out,” Barry says. He bends down with his body flush against Cisco’s, and Cisco can actually feel the muscles contract. Wow.

He whips around and breaks character. “Have you been working out?” he asks. “You  _hate_  working out.” On closer inspection, the suit hugs Barry’s body much more tightly than it usually does, which, considering how little it already leaves to the imagination, is really saying something. Wow, wow, wow.

Barry scoffs. “How am I supposed to be your knight in shining armor if you keep interrupting?” But then he grins, and it’s like the sun physically comes out in this dingy little warehouse they’re holed up in. “But yes, I did. Gotta play the part, right?”

Cisco lets off a low whistle. He’s going to have to up his game next time.

“Now, let’s get you out of here, sir.” Barry hoists him up in a bridal carry, and as his body brushes up against Barry, Cisco can feel his erection poking through the tripolymer of the suit.

“Rescuing me’s an aphrodisiac, huh?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Barry says, then pitches his voice upwards to its usual register. “By the way, I win. I’ve rescued you fifteen times this month to your eight.”

Cisco splutters. “You have super speed! It’s much harder for them to catch you.”

“Bro, you can literally see the future, so no complaining.” Barry adjusts his body, and Cisco nestles in closer for warmth. “According to my  _very_  deductive CSI skills, I’d say you lost this bet on purpose.”

“Hmm…and why would I do that?”

Barry’s body suddenly vibrates, and Cisco yelps. “You’re about to find out.”

“Wait,” a dazed voice calls out from behind them. “You could’ve rescued yourself this whole time? You let yourself get kidnapped for  _foreplay_?!”

“Oh, come on!” Barry shouts, and Cisco lets off a dweeby laugh, full-throated and carefree. “You’re under arrest and the cops are on their way. Stop interrupting.” He flashes off and handcuffs this week’s supervillain before Cisco can even register the departure of warmth (and more importantly, before gravity can register his airborne body).

And despite the absurdity of the situation, Cisco still can’t stop laughing. It’s corny and cheesy and trite and he wouldn’t have their relationship any other way.

“One time!” Barry rambles on, but Cisco can see the smile threatening to break loose across his face. “I just wanna role play one time without them interrupting us.”

And Cisco really does snort this time, nearly choking on his own snot he’s laughing so hard. “There’s always next month?”

Barry groans. “Yeah, yeah, keep laughing. Let’s go.”

***

+1.

Barry was acting strangely, which by itself wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, Barry’s priorities and eccentricities being what they were. But it began on one of their usual dinner dates.

“You okay, babe? You’ve barely touched any of your food.”

“Huh?” Barry startles, eyebrows scrunching together before relaxing minutely. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Which is usually the smoking red flag that everything is not, in fact, fine in Barry’s world, but their relationship is doing well right now. No secrets, full honesty with each other – it’s truly wild how much angst a little openness is saving them – so Cisco doesn’t push, though he does file the incident in the back of his mind.

“You want a doggy bag for that?” he asks.

“Oh, uh…” Barry frowns at his untouched California rolls like they’ve somehow personally offended him. “Sure. Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

“Right…”

The rest of the evening passes mostly without incident. They thread their fingers together on the way home, Barry presses him up against the door to his apartment before Cisco can finish fumbling with his keys, and they somehow fall into bed in a tangle of limbs and insistent kisses before any of Cisco’s neighbors can bear witness.

“Wow,” Cisco says, completely sated. “Why doesn’t anyone tell us more often that we’re awesome at sex?”

“We’re definitely slept on.”

Cisco snorts. “Give us all the awards.”

Barry grins a dopey little grin, and then his eyes go cross-eyed and he pouts.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! That was perfect.”

“You’re being weird again, dude.” Cisco flops onto his stomach and closes his eyes.

“Am not.” He imagines Barry sticking out his tongue here, which is...actually likely what Barry’s doing right now.

Cisco rolls over so he’s properly facing Barry. “Seriously, if there’s something on your mind, you can talk to me about it. It’s what I’m here for.”

Barry kisses him on the forehead and says, “thanks, but it’s really nothing.”

It doesn’t comfort Cisco.

The next few days are even stranger. Mostly, Barry keeps his distance – at least, more than normal. There are still kisses and hugs and fist bumps and all the little displays of affection that make their relationship feel so snug, but there’s also an undercurrent of...something. Cisco struggles to put his finger on it. It’s stolen glances when he thinks Cisco isn’t looking. It’s nervous fidgets and angry frowns and, once, it’s even Barry snapping when Cisco tries again to coax an answer out of Barry.

“Sorry!” Barry says immediately. “I didn’t mean...I’m just tired.”

Cisco raises an eyebrow. “Do you need space or something? ‘Cause I’m totally fine with that, just not this whole thing where you act like a child about it.”

Barry winces. “It’s not that…”

“Then what?”

“It’s...you. I mean, not, like, literally your fault, but...” he sighs, the wind completely deflating from his sails, and plops down bodily on the floor, bending his knees halfway to his chest. “Ow, that hurt way more than I thought it would.”

Cisco mostly can’t believe this is the Flash sitting in front of him. “So, how is it my fault but not literally my fault?” he prompts.

Barry straightens his back like he’s about to fight a bank robber, or maybe an entire horde of dominators. “Okay, you’re not allowed to laugh.” Cisco’s eyebrows creep higher into his hairline. “So last weekend, Iris and Wally bet that I couldn’t go a full week without bragging about you.”

Cisco blinks. “...That’s it?”

“It’s sadistic, Cisco! They’ve got everyone in on it. Joe, Kara, Oliver, even Linda knows about it, and they’re all betting against me.”

“Is that all.”

“I’m gonna lose!” Barry fists his fingers through his hair, which is honestly adorable. Flustered Barry is always adorable.

“So you’ve conquered cream puffs, blowjobs, and Nazis, but a little bit of bragging is what does you in?”

“It’s harder than it sounds!”

“You’re more than halfway through,” Cisco points out. “Although,” he smirks, “I understand it must be hard not bragging about dating one half of the most beautiful, awesome, cutest couple to ever exist.”

“Not helping, dude.” Barry pouts again, but after a moment he perks up. “Does that mean  _I’m_  also the most beautiful, awesome, cutest boyfriend to ever exist?”

Cisco rolls his eyes. “I regret opening my mouth, but yes.”

“Aww, you do care.” Barry cracks his back in true Drama Queen fashion, then hoists himself up using Cisco’s entire body for leverage. “Okay, there’s only three days left. I’m gonna win this thing for us.”

“I mean, you don’t have to.”

“No, I’m gonna. It’s a matter of principle.” Cisco snorts, and Barry only gets more animated. “It is! I don’t lose.”

“How often do you even brag about me anyway? This is necessary information for my ego.”

The fact that Barry’s face is red as a tomato is answer enough, but the lie seals the deal. “Not...that much,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Dude, it’s cute. Feel free to brag about me all you want.” Cisco hooks him in by the collar of his shirt and kisses him long. Barry makes a quiet little gasp before cupping the back of Cisco’s neck, long fingers firm and strong.

When they finally break and surface for air, Barry says quietly, “Wally kept track last week. It was fifty-eight times to him and Iris alone.”

“Flattery is the best form of flattery,” Cisco says. “Now that I know about this little bet, we have an opportunity for revenge the likes of which you’ve never seen before.”

Barry freezes – stares at Cisco like he’s got the answers to the universe, really.  “Oh my god. They’re not gonna know what hit them.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

“You know what? Screw it,” Barry says, like he’s proud of himself for breaking the rules for the first time. “No one’s listening. I really am dating the most beautiful, awesome, cutest boyfriend in the multiverse.” He grins like pure sunshine, and Cisco’s heart clenches.

Maybe winning wasn’t so overrated after all.

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on [tumblr](http://st4rlabsforever.tumblr.com)


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